


First Lesson

by mosaicofdreamsanddragons



Category: LEGO Monkie Kid
Genre: Also minor angst, Cooking lessons!, or at least mention of adult fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27769003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicofdreamsanddragons/pseuds/mosaicofdreamsanddragons
Summary: Pigsy had seen many things in his life. He’d befriended Sandy before he gave up his fighting ways. He regularly aided his children with saving the city. He’d had to create a noodle business from the ground up and used it to wage war against all who would stand in his way. But never had he been faced with such a challenge as this, teaching his kids to cook.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	First Lesson

It was a well-known fact that Pigsy was at war. Every day he struggled to guide his troops toward excellence. Every day he worked tirelessly to build up the stockpile necessary for a campaign into enemy territory. And every day he poured his heart and soul into the techniques that would carry his crew to victory.

Oh and there was the whole saving the city thing, but that was really his second priority. He liked to think of that life as existing in a separate spears of his mind. He only had so much brain power he could devote to Monkey nonsense. When he was at war, such things were far from his mind and when he was a superhero, war was the last thing he thought of.

Until the day it wasn’t.

It had been an ordinary day: fight whatever demon or demon bull king minions who wanted a piece of his kid and then get back to his real life of noodles and plotting campaigns. 

But today, today he’d slipped up. Today he’d almost been squashed by the remains of some demon bull minions and had barely been pulled out of the way by Tang. The attack wouldn’t have even come close to killing him but it could have done much worse. 

He’d kept his fretting to himself of course. No point in scaring the kids, they were freaked out enough by the near hit. If a few smiles and gruff reassurances were all they needed to bounce the close call off their shoulders as only the young can, he would provide them. 

Tang was no so easily fooled. “Something is bothering you,” he said, glare on his glasses preventing any eye contact. It was not a question.

“I…When we were on the mission…” he began and then stopped.

“I saved you,” said Tang firmly.

“Yes but you almost didn’t save me,” said Pigsy. Tang’s hands clutching the noodle bowl turned white and Pigsy quickly amended his statement. “Not that it would have killed me, calm down.” He waited until Tang let go of the bowl placing it on the table before continuing. “If you hadn’t, I would have broken my arm. And that would mean disaster for my business. I couldn’t cook, so MK would have no food to deliver. And soon we’d lose customers and who knows how many regulars would come back when I healed, what with the enemy always upping his game…we’d starve. And I can’t do that to MK, he’s starved enough in his life.”

“You wouldn’t starve,” said Tang with a hint of anger. “Even if the worst happened, you’d still have me to help and Sandy. Heck even Mei would chip in.” He took a deep breath and grabbed his bowl back. “And you’re missing the most obvious solution. If you broke you’re arm, you could run deliveries…” Pigsy raised an eyebrow at Tang. He snorted “….I’ve seen you drive one handed, don’t give me that look…” Pigsy raised his eyebrow even higher and Tang made a huff into his leftover broth “…fine. I could run deliveries. Then all you’d need to do is teach MK how to cook for you. You’d be able to be back in business in a day!”

“Teach MK how to cook?” said Pigsy. “Not in a day I wouldn’t. Cooking takes art and art takes time.”

“So start now,” said Tang. “Give him the time he’ll need to learn and grow. You could bring in Mei too, make a day of it.”

Pigsy looked down at his hands. “I’m not….the best instructor. Last time I tried to teach…well….Sandy and I ended that with a mutual agreement to never be in a kitchen together again.” He closed his eyes against sudden memoires of a time before Sandy had started therapy.

“Well that was a long time ago,” said Tang. “I’m sure you’ll be a great teacher now.” Before Pigsy could retort that Tang hadn’t been there and didn’t really know the extent of the disaster he caught a glance at Tang’s face.

He was gazing out the shop to where the two children had left. “And I don’t think they’d mind having a normal type of legacy,” he said barely above a whisper, “one without any magic or monkeys or dragons. Something they can learn an fail and the world won’t fall apart,” Pigsy opened his mouth to protest that was Tang not taking the noodle war seriously enough when Tang said, “…like their dad’s secret noodle recipe.” 

Pigsy opened his mouth. And shut his mouth. And turned back to the table. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Lessons begin tomorrow.”

Pigsy had seen many things in his life. He’d befriended Sandy before he gave up his fighting ways. He regularly aided his children with saving the city. He’d had to create a noodle business from the ground up and used it to wage war against all who would stand in his way. But never had he been faced with such a challenge as this. 

Before him, in the heart of his kitchen, stood only the freshest of recruits, neither who had ever so much as held the weapons of this war in their hands. Beyond them watching expectantly with notepad in hand was his acting secretary, who was far more interested in the potential noodles then jotting the recipe down. Farther back was the emotional support, who was not allowed near this kitchen for reasons both knew and would not discuss. Together they would create a mock battle, with Tang and Sandy as the customers and Mei, MK, and Pigsy as the chefs. 

“Okay,” he said to the eager faces of his children. “Today you will be taking your first steps onto a harrowing battlefield.” He paced back and forth moving his spoon and feet with the beat of his words. “Today, you will face trails like you have never faced. It will be the most difficult thing you have ever attempted to do, magical Monkey business included.” He turned to meet the eyes of Mk and Mei. “But I have complete faith, that under my guidance you will pull yourselves from the muck and mire of mediocracy and into success.”

“Pigsy its just noodles,” said MK hands behind his head. Mei shoved her hand in her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

“Just noodles!” said Pigsy throwing his spoon in the air and advancing on the boy. “Just noodles! Those noodles are the backbone of our livelihoods! The result of countless years honing my technique to perfection!” he caught Tang’s eyes and took a deep breath. Then in a gentler voice he continued, “And today I will be passing that legacy onto you. Now no one is expecting you to get it on your first try.”

“I make noodles all the time at home! How bad can it be?” said MK. 

“You make instant noodles,” said Pigsy stepping back and rubbing his temples. “That’s completely different. No technique, no finesse. This, this will push you to your limits.” He waves towards the assorted vegetables and meat. “Mei, you will be on toppings,” he gestured to a large pot, “and MK you will be on broth. Now I will need both of you to listen to what I say and only do what I tell you. Do you understand?”

The nod in unison. He takes a deep breath and hands the kids the knives. He can do this. 

The next hour passes quickly. But for him it goes swiftly jumping between: 

“No Mei do not hold your knife like your sword. Watch me, like this.”

“Don’t touch that pan, you aren’t invincible anymore you’ll burn yourself.”

“You need to sauté the vegetables first. No those aren’t ready, you haven’t turned the stove on so they aren’t cooking…”

“Don’t poor boiling oil down the sink! &*@#$ Get on the counter NOW!!!” Both children climbed onto the counter in confusion and even Sandy and Tang pulled their feet up. “The pipe melted,” he told the confused kids. “We stay up here, until I get the boiling oil of the floor.”

“It’s like the floor is lava!” said Mei. 

“Don’t try anything crazy!” said Pigsy. “I’m just gonna head over to the broom closet…” he began carefully picking his way across the counter, careful not to step near any of the food or utensils. It was harder then it looked, as the counter was covered with the mess only three chefs could bring. He picked his way across only to discover what he’d thought to be a solid footing turn out to be pan which slipped out from under his foot and sent him toppling down, down…

Something hard and round stopped his fall before he could make contact with the oil slicked floors. “I’ve got you Pigsy!” he heard his kid yell as he slowly became aware of the enormous iron staff now wedged from one side of his kitchen to another, and preventing him from a landing with third degree burns. 

He took a deep breath and pulled himself across the makeshift bridge to the counter where Tang, Sandy, and MK were all waiting. And even though he was fairly certain he had got the hang of it by the time he reached them, Sandy still reached out and lifted him onto the counter.

“Real battle we got here,” said Sandy. “But I think the troops are getting the hang of it.” He nodded and Pigsy looked up to see MK carefully maneuvering the staff-bridge to bring Mei towards the broom cupboard. 

“They’re ingenuous,” said Pigsy. “That’ll help them with creating new things down the line. Once they master the basics…” he glanced around his kitchen, now covered in oil, with food scattered everywhere and possibly contaminated by the people climbing around it waving their newly discovered brooms and mops and bit back a groan. This was not how this lesson was supposed to go. 

Sandy rose to retrieve the one of the mops from Mei but before he left he turned to Pigsy, “No one learns any skill in a day. Give ‘em time. They’ll get it. They have an excellent teacher.”

Pigsy closed his eyes as Tang dropped down beside him. “Sandy’s right, no one learns a skill in a day, not cooking, not teaching.” Pigsy opened one eye to glance at Tang. He grinned smugly at him. “But a little disaster never stopped your campaigns before, eh Marshal? And whatever the result of this campaign, I’ll eat it.”

“You better,” he mock-growled at Tang’s smirk.

Between Sandy, MK, and Pigsy they managed to get the no-longer-boiling oil off the floor. Mei helped as much as she could but all she could really bring was her enthusiasm since she’d never seen a broom in her life and really didn’t know how to clean (and Pigsy made a mental note to teach her later). Sandy even fixed the melted pipes. With the kitchen newly sparkling and all that could be salvaged out and ready, Pigsy got up and fetched the noodles. 

“Okay kids,” he said. “Mei, I want you to get the toppings ready to go. MK hold this in the boiling water for three minutes, do not touch the pot again. When the three minutes are up, pull it out and pour the noodles in it in the bowl. Mei, I want you to add the toppings on top once MK’s added the noodles and then poor in the broth. Take your time both of you, you’ll have time to add speed to this later.”

Face squished in concentration, MK slowly lifted up the noodles and placed them in the bowl. Then Mei added the toppings and very slowly and carefully poured in the broth. Now finished their faces broke into relieved grins and they both reached for the bowl, only for Pigsy to yell “Order up!” and place the bowl in front of Tang.

Pigsy turned back to the disappointed faces and handed MK another batch of noodles, nodding back to the broth and stack of toppings. “The point of cooking is to make it for others, not yourself. And besides, we’re not done here until we’re out of ingredients.”

The broth lasted them two more bowls, one which Pigsy handed to Sandy. The two children were left staring at the single bowl. They seemed to be having a silent conversation before turning and pushing it towards Pigsy. And Pigsy found two pairs of wide eyes turned up to him expectantly. He steeled himself and reached up to bring the noodles to his mouth.

It was…not bad. Not to his standards and not ready for sale yet. But it was made with his kids sweat and tears and he loved every bite. “Delicious,” he said, “We’ll make chefs of you yet.”

Sandy applauded. “Much better review then the first time I ever tried to help him! Have we told you that story? It started many years ago and ended with an explosion…”

With the kids happily listening to Sandy regale them with their first cooking disaster, Tang happily listening nearby sipping his soup and stealing some of Sandy’s noodles, Pigsy sat back and drunk the site in. This was something he wanted to savor, a memory he could call up after scares like yesterday or on bad nights.

His kids’ first bowl of noodles, one more step towards growing up. A milestone greater than any of the saving the city they did. He was so proud.

**Author's Note:**

> When I was in high school a friend of mine melted the pipes under the sink. Lucky for them it was just water.


End file.
